


I Wish I Could Remember You

by sunsetmog



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer wakes up in the hospital after a surfing accident, and can't remember the last three years of his life. The doctors tell him his amnesia is likely to only be temporary, but in the meantime, Spencer can't remember the house he shares with Brendon, their dog, or how long they've been dating. Because--they are dating, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wish I Could Remember You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harriet_vane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriet_vane/gifts).



> Written in email to harriet_vane in approximately autumn 2009, but never posted. Tidied up chat-fic; unbetaed. Contains reference to head injury, hospitals, and brain trauma. Contains evidence of very little actual research into post-traumatic, retrograde amnesia. (sorry)

Spencer wakes up to the worst pain he can imagine ever suffering. His head feels like it's about to explode, and when he tries to turn his head sparks explode behind his eyes. He can't focus on anything; the room is a blur of whites and grays and when he tries to speak he sounds hoarse and scared. 

"Spence?" someone says, and the voice sounds familiar. 

"Brendon?" Spencer tries, and he blinks, trying to focus. 

The guy leans in, touching Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, Spence. Don't try and talk, fuck, thank fuck you're okay."

"Brendon," Spencer says again, because he still can't see properly. He keeps blinking, but every time he tries to move his vision explodes and everything goes blurry again. "I don't—"

Brendon stills him with a hand to his shoulder. "Shhh," he says. "You hit your head," he says, "at the beach."

Spencer doesn't remember the beach. He doesn't even live anywhere near the beach. 

"We're at the hospital," Brendon says, softly. "Shane's here, too."

Spencer doesn't remember Shane, either. 

"Brendon," he says again, and this time he sounds upset. "Fuck, it _hurts_."

"Shane's gone to get the doctor," Brendon says, grabbing Spencer's hand and squeezing. "Don't try and talk. Everything's going to be okay."

&&&

"You have a concussion," the doctor tells him, which Spencer has sort of already figured out. "Now, do you remember what happened?"

Spencer tries really hard, but he can't. 

&&&

"Brendon," Spencer says, trying not to move. His head hurts so much he can barely breathe. "Brendon, I don't remember -"

He can focus better this time, but something still isn't right. He blinks again, but it doesn't change anything. Brendon doesn't look like he's supposed to. 

Brendon's—Brendon's supposed to be seventeen. He isn't. He's broader and less awkward and _older_. He's _hot_. "I don't remember, Brendon."

"It's going to be okay," Brendon says, but he sounds scared, and Spencer doesn't know where Ryan is. "Don't cry, Spence. Everything's going to be okay."

&&&

That first night Spencer spends in hospital is the worst night of his entire life. He has to lie completely still and stare up at the ceiling; any other position and pain explodes behind his eyelids. He can't sleep because of the pain, and he can't remember ever feeling so sick. 

He's all by himself and try as he might, he still can't remember the run-up to his accident, or anything that's happened in the last three years. It's all a blank, a dark hole in his brain, and he hates it. 

&&&

When Spencer wakes up again, Brendon's sitting by his bed, flicking through a magazine. 

"Hey," Spencer says, hoarsely. 

"Hey," Brendon says, and he jerks forward, reaching for the jug of water and dropping the magazine on to Spencer's bed. "You want something to drink?" he asks, and pours Spencer a glass, holding out the straw for Spencer to sip through. 

"Thanks," Spencer says, and tries not to stare at how Brendon's changed. The last time he remembers seeing Brendon, he was awkward and seventeen, wearing stripy t-shirts and falling over his feet and laughing too loudly and too long. Now he's maybe just as dorky as he always was, but he's tan and freckly and kind of buff, and he's _definitely_ not seventeen anymore. He's twenty two, apparently. He seems like he's more relaxed in the way he holds himself, although right now he's looking taut and worried. He's asking how Spencer is, and whether he's comfortable and whether he remembers anything, and it hurts when Spencer shakes his head to say no. 

"It's okay," Brendon says, in what he clearly thinks is a reassuring tone of voice, and for what Spencer thinks is the thousandth time. "It'll come back, don't worry."

Yeah, Spencer thinks. Easy for you to say, and falls asleep. 

&&&

Shane sits with him later on, and he tells Spencer it's because Brendon's gone to pick Spencer up some clothes so they can go home. 

"Uh-huh," Spencer says, trying not to stare. It's so _weird_. He knows he's supposed to know Shane, and that they're friends, but it doesn't feel like that. He doesn't even recognize him, let alone remember what it is that they have in common. He has no idea what he's doing in LA, when the last thing he remembers is living in Las Vegas with his parents. "Hang on, why haven't I got any clothes here? What did I come in wearing?"

"Your wetsuit," Shane explains, pouring Spencer some more water. Apparently he's supposed to keep his fluid levels up, but Spencer's tired of drinking. He pokes his cup, miserably. Shane nudges it closer to him, and explains, "You hit your head when you were surfing. You came off your board."

Spencer blinks. "I surf?" he asks. Spencer doesn't exactly remember playing many sports, except for that time he and Ryan took up skateboarding. It wasn't exactly a success. He wonders where Ryan is, and resolves to ask Brendon the next time he sees him. 

"You and Brendon do pretty much nothing else _but_ surf." His voice is kind of squeaky. "Or talk about surfing." 

"No way," Spencer says. "What, really?" He wonders what the hell he could know about surfing. He taps his fingers and wonders how long Brendon's going to be. At least he remembers who Brendon is. "Fuck, did I give Brendon a key to my place? How's he going to get in?"

Shane looks at him a little oddly. "You guys live together," he says. "Didn't Brendon tell you?"

Well, Spencer thinks. That's weird. He didn't expect that. 

&&&

 

The doctors say that Spencer's amnesia is likely to pass by itself, given time. Spencer asks _how much time_? but apparently that's a question that no one knows the answer to. 

Brendon leans in and rubs Spencer's shoulder as the doctor leaves, and Spencer has a moment to think about how comforting that feels, how normal and familiar, before Brendon's squeezing his shoulder again and smiling awkwardly. Spencer remembers that smile, he _knows_ that smile, and that at least is reassuring. Brendon might look different, older and less skinny, but there's still something of the Brendon that Spencer remembers. 

"Let's get you home," Brendon says. 

"Home," Spencer says, and wonders what kind of place he has with Brendon. 

"Home," Brendon echoes. "Bogart's missed you, dude."

Spencer doesn't know what the fuck Bogart is, but he lets Brendon help him into the wheelchair they're insisting that he use to get to where Shane's parked the car. His head hurts and he feels sick now that he's sitting up and moving. "Onward," he says, weakly, and tries for a smile. 

"Home," Brendon says, again. "Come on."

&&&

Home is kind of... nicer than Spencer imagined. The last he remembered, he'd been living with his parents, and he's definitely not used to the idea of not living with them, and definitely not in a place like this. It's LA, for a start, and it's warm and sunny and when they pull up outside, their driveway is lined with greenery. He wonders if they've taken up gardening, as well. It doesn't feel like something he'd enjoy. 

Brendon is very, very careful with him, and helps him out of the car and into the house. He shoos away Bogart—who turns out to be a pretty adorable puppy with too big a collar and dark eyes like Brendon's—and then helps Spencer upstairs. 

Spencer feels like an invalid and hates it. "I can do this by myself," he says, which is a lie, but not one he's going to admit to. 

"No you can't," Brendon says resolutely. "The doctor said you'd be wobbly on your feet, and that you'd need help. Stop pretending you don't."

"I'm _fine_ ," Spencer maintains, and to prove it, he lets go of Brendon and promptly feels a little dizzy. "Woah," he says, and a furrow appears in between Brendon's brows as he grabs Spencer around the waist, tighter this time. 

"You're going to _bed_ ," Brendon says. "And you're not going to get up again until I say so, okay?" 

"Whatever," Spencer says, but he doesn't want to move much, anyway. He lets Brendon help him the rest of the way upstairs. 

&&&

Spencer's bedroom is kind of sparse. There's a bed, and a set of drawers and a built in closet, but that's about it. Brendon sits him on the bed and then goes to drag in a chair for Spencer to sit on while Brendon changes the sheets, because Brendon won't let him in bed without fresh sheets.

"Not while you're sick, dude," Brendon says, when Spencer complains. "Mom always says that you can't get well if you've got dirty sheets."

"Uh-huh," Spencer says, and raises an eyebrow as he looks around the room. "Are you sure I live here, dude? Don't I have more stuff than this?"

"Huh?" Brendon stops tucking the sheets in and looks around. "Well," he says. "You just keep your stuff everywhere else in the house, that's all. I guess you don't spend much time in here."

_Huh_ , Spencer thinks, and spends a moment staring at Brendon's ass, thinking. 

&&&

Brendon clearly feels terrible about the accident, and he's insisting on being ridiculously overprotective of Spencer, with blankets and hugs and soup and medicine. The doctors tell them that nothing is actually wrong with Spencer's brain, and Spencer will remember everything eventually, but in the meantime he's got a terribly clingy Brendon who is much hotter than Spencer remembers. And nothing is clarifying anything for Spencer. His twitter just makes him more confused about whether they're dating or not, instead of less. 

Spencer really has no idea what is going on. And they _live together_. There is a house which is theirs, and for the first couple of days Brendon won't let Spencer out of bed. There is soup, and tea, and Brendon hugging him a lot - which just confuses him. Are they dating or aren't they? Brendon's taken up residence on Spencer's bed with him, and they're watching DVDs and Brendon has brought Spencer his laptop.

Spencer is mostly confused. Confused, and unable to stop moving closer to Brendon, who smells kind of _good_ , and is about a million times hotter than he was the last time Spencer remembered him. And also, why hasn't Ryan come to visit him yet? 

"Where's Ryan?" he asks, and Brendon's face falls, and he curls into Spencer's side, because apparently everyone has forgotten to tell Spencer that his band has broken up while he hasn't been looking. He wishes he hadn't forgotten that. He feels awful. 

Meanwhile, it's so weird. The dog seems to think he belongs to Spencer AND Brendon; he comes over for petting and tries to climb in the bed with them. Brendon isn't acting like it's odd to sleep next to Spencer, or share a house with Spencer. And everyone who calls Spencer is acting like him living with Brendon is lovely, even Brendon's parents. It's so weird.

He doesn't mean to get insistent about knowing where Ryan is, but he only gets more so when Brendon fidgets and hugs him and clearly doesn't want to say. 

Spencer ends up wondering if maybe he and Brendon dating broke up the band. 

Spencer doesn't know where Ryan lives, because he can't remember, but he's decided that the very first thing he's going to do when Brendon will let him out of the house is go and see him.

It takes a bit of texting, and it's weird that he can count Pete as a friend now, instead of just a friendly guy who signed them, but Pete helps him out with the address. Brendon looks so sad whenever Spencer tries to bring up Ryan that Spencer is _convinced_. that it's all down to them dating. He thinks that's probably why Brendon isn't kissing him, either. He feels too bad about them causing the band to break up. 

So he gets in the car to go see Ryan, and he takes the dog, too, since the dog seems to belong to him as much as it does Brendon, and he squares his shoulders and goes to see Ryan. 

He is a little flummoxed, honestly, that they all live in LA now. And he has to sneak out because normally Brendon tries to hug him back into the living room, which doesn't shock Spencer; he's seen how the Urie family like to hug each other before anyone goes anywhere. (He's really pleased that Brendon's parents don't mind him living with their youngest son after all. Obviously he's forgotten them all becoming so open minded and awesome, although that's probably why they have separate bedrooms, for when the parents come to visit.) But he has to know what the hell went down with Ryan, so he grabs Bogart and drives off. 

It's also pretty amazing that he has GPS, honestly, because he doesn't have a clue where he's going. He feels weird in his own body, like he should be younger or something. His clothes feel like they were picked out by someone else. 

Brendon texts him six times while Spencer's driving, and Spencer texts back, _dont worry, am going to fix stuff with ryan._ And then, because Brendon is clearly his boyfriend and boyfriends sign off with hearts and shit, he types _xoxo_ and presses send. 

Then he locks his car and walks up the steps to Ryan's front door, Bogart running around his feet. 

It seems like a really nice house for Ryan to live in, out in the canyon, and he remembers Ryan saying he hated LA and would never live there, so things are definitely weird. Bogart is running around going a little crazy, and Spencer picks him up before he knocks on the door. The dog is good moral support, and he doesn't have to worry about what kind of relationship he has with him. Bogart licks him and looks happy; clearly he belongs just as much to Spencer as he does to Brendon, because they are clearly boyfriends who live together, and Brendon spends all of his time in Spencer's room, so that's probably what happens when Spencer's brain isn't fucking them all over too. 

He's just starting to think that there's no one in at Ryan's place when he hears footsteps in the hallway, and then the door opens. 

Ryan looks nothing like Spencer remembers, and it's a jolting, disconcerting realization. 

"Spence," Ryan says, and he looks worried. "Spence. Are you okay? Should you be out, or whatever?"

"You didn't call," Spencer manages. Bogart's licking his face and Spencer wishes Brendon were here. "You didn't call, Ryan. I don't remember anything and you didn't call. Are you really that pissed with me?"

Ryan looks very, very young. "Spence," he says, softly. "You didn't call me back. For weeks. I figured -"

Spencer says, "What?"

"I've been getting updates from Shane," Ryan says, quickly. "I've been calling him. It's not like -"

Spencer knows who Shane is, now. He doesn't remember him, not at all, but he knows Shane moved out so that Brendon and Spencer could be together, and that he's a friend. "I missed you," Spencer says, and Ryan's face falls. 

"I missed you too," Ryan says. "Do you want to come inside?" 

They both seem sad, and all Spencer can think is that it's because Spencer left Ryan behind when he started dating Brendon. He can't figure out why else Ryan would be calling Shane instead of him. It's really awkward, and Spencer doesn't understand. He hates it when he doesn't understand, so standing in Ryan's kitchen with a cup of coffee and just staring at each other is really weird. 

Finally, Spencer says, "Was it the whole, uh, Brendon thing? Is that why we're not talking? Because I'm pretty sure the not talking thing totally fucking sucks."

Ryan looks confused, and then sad. "Yeah," he says, "it totally fucking sucks."

"I don't understand," Spencer says, after a while. He's so confused, and he misses Brendon, who is clearly his boyfriend but who isn't kissing him or putting his hand down Spencer's pants, and Spencer wants to hurry up and get better so that Brendon will do that again, and he wants to fix things with Ryan so that they're not mad anymore. Because this sucks, and he wants things back the way they're supposed to be. He's going to have to have a talk with Brendon about being a better boyfriend, and the healing power of blow jobs. 

But in the meantime Ryan isn't even petting Bogart. Or saying anything. It must have been a really awful fight. 

He's also been thinking about mounting an offense attack and sticking his hand down _Brendon's_ pants, but he doesn't want Brendon to stop him because he thinks Spencer isn't well enough yet, or whatever. Spencer thinks he should probably drop some hints that orgasms are good for recovery. 

Spencer holds his dog out. "You haven't said hey to my dog," he says, lamely, because he doesn't know how to fix this, because he doesn't know what went wrong in the first place. 

"Your dog?" Ryan asks, but he pets Bogart and scritches him between the ears so that Bogart licks Ryan's neck. 

Spencer shrugs. "Mine and Brendon's, whatever." He waits a moment, and then bites his lip. "Tell me how to fix this, Ryan. I'll fix it, just tell me." 

"I don't know," Ryan says. He looks kind of helpless. He shrugs his shoulders, and scratches Bogart between the ears. "I just. We wanted different things."

"So?" Spencer says, belligerently. He doesn't see why him wanting Brendon to be his boyfriend should mean he and Ryan couldn't be friends anymore. 

"So," Ryan says. "I don't know. Things change." He looks really sad. "I miss you," he says, again. 

"I don't think I've gone anywhere," Spencer says. He hugs his dog, who wriggles a little in his arms. "I'm still there, with Brendon."

"I know," Ryan says, after a while. "You're still there, but I don't think I was anymore."

Spencer is officially confused. 

Spencer says something awkward and adorable about how Ryan could come by and visit, as he's got a great excuse, after all. And then he uses the sad eyes to make Ryan feel guilty—it's good to know that still works. He won't leave until Ryan promises to come visit, because obviously if Ryan sees that he and Brendon are happy he'll relax about the whole thing. 

And then he takes his puppy and goes home to try and make a sexy move on his surprise!hot boyfriend. 

Brendon is really grumpy because Spencer snuck out, and Spencer stands there for a while as Brendon yells at him for taking stupid risks and screwing up and going out of the house while confused. "-ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED, SPENCER, ANYTHING -"

Spencer thinks, _hmmm_ , and then closes the distance between them and kisses Brendon. "Shut up," he says, against Brendon's mouth. "Shut up and kiss me back."

Brendon makes a startled noise and shoves Spencer away, but he also grabs at his shirt with his other hand, tugging him closer. Spencer thinks he's still worried Spencer's not up to it, so he just walks him back against the wall and keeps kissing him until Brendon's hands go lax. 

"See, now I feel better," Spencer grins. 

"Mmmmph," Brendon manages, and Spencer thinks he sounds confused, but he's not pushing Spencer away, so Spencer just kisses him again. 

"See," Spencer says, with a grin, "I'm totally up to kissing you again, you can stop worrying." He kisses Brendon again, and Brendon's hands curl in Spencer's shirt. "I'm pretty sure I'm up for you sticking your hands down my pants again, too."

Brendon yelps, but keeps a hold of Spencer's shirt, keeping him close. 

"No, really, I'm fine," Spencer says. "And I don't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure I missed this." He takes a minute to kiss Brendon breathless again. 

"You _missed this_?" Brendon asks against his mouth. He clutches at the back of Spencer's t-shirt. 

"Definitely," says Spencer. 

"Uh," Brendon manages, but Spencer has definitely, definitely missed this. His stomach feels kind of weird, like it has been _far_ too long since they did this, longer than just a couple of weeks, but he tries not to concentrate on that, because he's kissing the corner of Brendon's mouth and cupping his chin in his hand. 

"Spencer, uh," Brendon starts. 

"Shh," Spencer interrupts him. "This is not talking time, this is making out time. I'm pretty sure that you should have learnt this by now."

"Spencer," Brendon pulls away now, but he's pink-cheeked and breathing kind of hard. "You think we've done this before?"

"I don't remember everything, but yeah," Spencer says. Brendon's mouth is amazing, and he tastes like beer and chocolate and sun tan lotion. Spencer is never going to forget this again. 

"Wait, hang on," Brendon says, turning his face away. "Spencer. Is this the concussion talking? Did the headache come back? Are you feeling sick?"

If Spencer lets Brendon start to worry again it'll be days before they get to do this again. Spencer puts his hands on the wall and brackets Brendon. "I feel awesome," he says. Ok, he leers. 

"I feel amazing," Spencer goes on, kissing Brendon again, "because I get to do this again."

Brendon makes a sound in his throat. 

"I'm _fine_ ," Spencer says, fingertips stroking at Brendon's jaw. "You don't need to worry about me getting sick again. Orgasms probably _help_ , anyway."

Brendon whines a little. "Spencer," he says, breathlessly, "Spence, really. Stop. You don't really want this. You can't."

Spencer stops kissing him, but he doesn't move away. "What do I need to do to convince you it's okay to start making out with me again?"

Brendon blinks. "Spence," he says, softly. "We've never done this before. You and me - we haven't. I don't know what you think you're remembering, but it isn't this. It isn't me." 

"What?" Spencer laughs. "No. No way. I remember this. I remember..." He is sure he can remember the way Brendon feels draped across his back, or curled up on the couch with him, or falling asleep in bed with him. He knows he wants this. He loves the way Brendon fits against him, and the way his hand fits perfectly in the dip of Brendon's lower back. He remembers wanting Brendon. 

"You don't remember it with me," Brendon repeats quietly. 

"We share a house and a dog and a bed," Spencer says. "Your mom called three times to check on me."

Brendon laughs and looks sad. "I wish I remembered what you remember." 

Spencer feels kind of desperate. "What," he says, again. "You're screwing with me, right?"

Brendon shakes his head, miserably. "No We've never - We haven't," he says finally. "That was the first time." He clenches his fists by his side, and looks utterly desolate. 

"But," Spencer says, wildly. His head hurts. "You hug me all the time. We - on the couch. The hugging. You're like a boyfriend. _My_ boyfriend."

"No," Brendon says. He sounds gentle, and terribly sad. "Not your boyfriend." 

"You're telling me I moved in with you and Ryan quit the band, and we're not even dating?" Spencer asks a little wildly. 

"What does Ryan have to do with this?" Brendon asks. "Shane moved out and you were staying on the couch so you just kind moved in."

Spencer knows it wasn't just that. He can feel it. He wouldn't have been staying there for no reason. He could have gotten an apartment nearby. He wanted to be with Brendon. He wanted Brendon. 

"If that's what I said then I'm a liar," Spencer tells Brendon. 

"What?" Brendon says. He looks confused. 

"I'm a _liar_ ," Spencer says. "I must be. I didn't make up this -" he moves his hands, hoping they'll explain better than he can. "I didn't make up how I'm feeling right now. About you."

"Spence," Brendon says, carefully. "You've had a serious head injury, you're not thinking straight -"

"Shut _up_ ," Spencer says. "I know, okay. I know. But I'm still not wrong."

Brendon's cheeks are pink. "I wish you weren't," he says, "wrong, I mean. But you are." 

Spencer narrows his eyes. "Tell me how I know this, then," he says, and kisses Brendon at that spot where his jaw and his neck meets. Brendon closes his eyes out of reflex and shivers. Spencer presses their chests together, hands on Brendon's hips. 

"M-maybe you spied on me," Brendon manages. Spencer scrapes his teeth across Brendon's neck. "Oh, god."

Spencer pulls back a little again. "I _know_ ," says Spencer. "I know what a house and a dog and a bed means. I know that I keep twittering pictures of you. We went out for a beer and I wrote, 'doesn't get much better.' Me and you."

"You meant the beer," Brendon says, but he doesn't sound entirely convinced himself. 

"I could have lived anywhere," Spencer says, and he doesn't move away, staying pressed to Brendon's chest. " _Anywhere_. But I didn't, I stayed _here_."

"You missed Haley," Brendon says, stammering. His hands are still on Spencer's hips, his thumbs stroking. Spencer thinks Brendon hasn't even noticed. 

Spencer doesn't even know who Haley _is_ , not really. He knows she was his ex-girlfriend, because Brendon's told him. "Sure," he says. "For a while, maybe. But I _stayed_. I moved in. With you. And your dog, and whatever. I moved in with _you_. I'm not wrong." 

"You never said anything to _me_ ," Brendon says doubtfully. "Except you thought I'd be lonely without Shane, and househunting is shitty."

Spencer laughs. "So I'm still a pretty crappy liar, huh?"

"No, I mean, you meant it. You _said_ you meant it. You never acted like... Uh. I thought you meant it," Brendon says. "You've been here for months and you didn't do anything except kick around the music room and go surfing with me. And waterproof the deck, I guess. Not that you got around to it."

Spencer raises an eyebrow. "I spent months just hanging out with you?"

"Yeah, we just like... We sit around, we play music, we play video games, we see movies, we go to bars..." Brendon trails off.

"And none of _that_ sounds like dating at _all_ ," Spencer agrees sarcastically. 

"It wasn't dating," Brendon says quickly. "I would have _realized_."

Spencer's desperate. "I'm not wrong about this," he says, again. "Tell me you don't want to make out with me as much as I want to make out with _you_." He tries to smile, but can't. Brendon's being an _idiot_. "I waterproofed your _deck_ ," he says. "I'm pretty sure that's a boyfriendy thing to do. I didn't even know I could do that."

"You looked it up online," Brendon says. "You watched, like, a million you-tube videos."

"To waterproof your deck," Spencer says, carefully. He raises an eyebrow, and waits. "Brendon," he says, finally, when it's clear Brendon isn't going to say anything else. "Come on. Do you want to make out with me, or not?" 

"I..." says Brendon and stops. "Well. I."

"Yes?" says Spencer, feeling a little sick.

"That's not a fair question!" Brendon bursts out. "Tomorrow you might remember that _you_ don't want to, and if I say I do you'll think I'm weird and you'll move out and I don't want you to!" 

Spencer says quietly, "That's not what I'm going to remember. And that's the opposite of why I'd move out."

"Well you never _said_ anything before I almost killed you in a horrible accident, so," says Brendon, ducking under Spencer's arm and fleeing upstairs.

He never did answer Spencer's question, is the thing. 

Spencer spends a few quality seconds feeling very confused, firstly about Brendon not being his boyfriend, which feels really very wrong, and secondly about his conversation with Ryan. If that wasn't about Brendon, then Spencer really has _no_ idea why things are so bad between the two of them. 

He stands at the bottom of the stairs and feels sad. "Brendon," he yells, after a minute of staring at the carpet. "I'm not moving out. You're stuck with me."

Brendon doesn't say anything back, though, and Spencer's shoulders slump. 

Spencer definitely remembers things. He knows he's not wrong. He watches some footage of the two of them goofing around for the cameras on his laptop and seems them standing too close together, and the way Brendon smiles when he can't help himself, and he's sure he's right.

Possibly he's been too stupid to say anything, though. Apparently he never got around to mentioning to Brendon that they were dating.

In the meantime, he's never going to convince Brendon that he's serious if he can't remember things. He's going to have to get his memories back. He really would feel better, he thinks mopily, with a Brendon-assisted orgasm or two. 

Spencer sits at the kitchen table with his laptop and mopes for a while. "Brendon, you're my boyfriend, and I'm really sorry I forgot to tell you," he says, to nobody in particular. Brendon's still hiding upstairs. His laptop blinks reassuringly at him. "I can't remember anything," he says, "but I do know that having sex with you would be pretty damn amazing."

He kicks the table leg and slumps over the table, wishing he could remember. Bogart runs around his feet and noses lazily at Spencer's crotch before running over to the window and barking at the tree outside. "Stop that, you stupid mutt," Spencer says, affectionately. "I thought we'd got you to stop that already. How many weeks of dog obedience classes, and you still haven't learnt?"

There's a long moment where he just stares, before he starts yelling. "Brendon!" he yells, "I remembered something, I remembered how stupid our dog is!"

"You haven't remembered that," Brendon yells back, his voice muffled. "New people learn that in _five seconds_. Stop trying to make me feel better."

"No, wait, listen!" Spencer hollers. "He's purebred, right, and we were promised he'd be an amazing, dog-show worthy dog, but then it turned out all he does is bark and ruin shoes! We sent him to obedience school and he flunked out with a rubber bone for his diploma!"

There's a pause and then Brendon peeks around the top of the stairs. "You remember that?" he says.

"Yes!" Spencer says. He picks up Bogart and hugs him happily, and Bogart licks his neck. "Hey, I also just remembered that we promised the vet we'd stop giving him treats, and you have a secret stash upstairs in your t-shirt drawer."

"You didn't know that before!" Brendon squeaks, wide-eyed.

"Dude, I knew lots of stuff I apparently didn't tell you," Spencer replies. 

"Our dog is stupid," Spencer says, happily, letting Bogart lick his face. "Our dog is the stupidest, but not as stupid as _you_ , apparently, because you think I'm going to stop wanting to kiss you." 

He scritches Bogart between the ears again, and Bogart tries to squirm over in Spencer's arms so that Spencer can scratch his tummy. Their dog is _stupid_. Spencer's never been happier about anything. 

"I'm not going to stop wanting to kiss you anytime soon," Spencer goes on, "because I haven't stopped wanting to for, like, a fucking year or something, so I'm pretty sure I'm not going to stop any time soon."

He doesn't remember that yet, not all of the last year, but he's pretty sure he's remembered enough that he can say he's wanted to kiss Brendon without it being a lie. 

"Brendon," he yells, "are you even listening to me?" 

There's a pause. Then, "Tell me why the band broke up," Brendon says.

Spencer grits his teeth. "I remember _you_ ," he says. "I remember our dog. I remember moving in here, and trust me, I wasn't just too lazy to find my own place."

"You don't really remember," says Brendon, sounding disappointed. "Your brain is injured, and it's making you crazy."

"So what's your excuse, then," Spencer grumbles. Bogart barks to be let down. He yells, "You wanted me, too!"

There is another pause. "There is _no way_ you could remember that," Brendon says in a small voice.

Spencer is remembering things a lot faster suddenly. "We just went on a tour," he says. It feels weird to only remember Brendon being there, but maybe Pete was there, too? "Just you and me, and it was lonely, and you made me sleep on the couch in the bus with you."

Brendon squeaks, "I didn't exactly _make_ you." 

"No," Spencer amends. "You asked, and I wanted to. I _wanted_ to. And my brain wasn't injured then, so. I just wanted to, because, I, uh, wanted to."

"Shut up," Brendon says, miserably. "Spence, what if I tell you, and you wake up tomorrow and you've remembered, and I'm back to just being your roommate, and you don't want me either. Where do we go from there?"

"Brendon," Spencer says, patiently, "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you."

"Shut up," Brendon says again, but he sounds a little shaky. "You can't be."

"You shut up," Spencer says, folding his arms grumpily. "I'm pretty sure I _can_. And I remember that that's my t-shirt you're wearing."

Brendon looks a little guilty. "You gave it to me?" 

"I have a brain injury," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Stop that."

"I liked the way it smelled," Brendon says, in a small voice. "I _missed_ you, okay?"

"...The way I _smelled_?" Spencer asks, over the thump of his heartbeat. "You missed me?" 

Brendon backpedals, "I missed you being around. You were injured. No one wanted to watch Avatar with me, or walk the dog."

"You spent four days in bed with me while I was recovering, and you _missed_ me," Spencer says, grinning. 

Brendon sits down on the top step. "I mean, you moved in and we spend a lot of time together, and I dragged you out surfing and then you got _hurt_. And I needed someone to tell me you were going to be okay, but you couldn't, and I missed you."

"You didn't get me hurt," says Spencer. "I must have wanted to surf."

"I'm always dragging you places," Brendon says.

Spencer has another flash of memory. "I didn't want to go to Red Robin," he says. "So I didn't. I _did_ want to go to Pete's, and I _did_ want to go see that movie with you, and I did want to... Hang on, we bought matching track suits to walk Bogart, right?"

Brendon swallows a laugh. "We, uh. Maybe?"

"Oh my god," says Spencer. "How could you possibly not have known I was in love with you?" 

Brendon turns a satisfying shade of pink. "Spence," and Spencer is pretty sure that he actually _squeaks_. 

"You spent four days in bed with me, Brendon," Spencer says, and he's tired of this now, he's tired and his head is beginning to ache. "Sharing my bed, and looking after me, and, I, fuck, Brendon, I _love_ you. Just. I don't know. Tell me you love me back or something, please." 

"I..." Brendon says. "You're my best friend and I almost killed you. And I've spent a really, really long time thinking that... Wondering if... You _kissed_ me and you said you remembered being in love with me, but I would have known, because I've been in love with you since I was seventeen, basically, so I just don't believe you. And now I'm gonna go hide upstairs again." He's on his feet and vanished down the hallway by the time he says the last word. 

Spencer gapes. "I... I would remember that!" he yells.

Either he really doesn't remember everything or Brendon is a much, much better actor than Spencer thought he was. Or maybe they have both been really stupid.

There's no response from upstairs. 

Spencer stands in the kitchen doorway and watches Bogart run around the yard. He puts some food out for him, and refills his water bowl, and then goes around the house and closes the curtains and the blinds. He locks the back door after Bogart comes back inside, and goes upstairs to his bedroom. 

The covers on his bed are all messy from the night before, when it was him and Brendon sharing, but the room is empty now, apart from him. Brendon's down the hallway, in his own bedroom with the door shut. 

Spencer sits on the end of his bed and pulls out his cellphone. He types, _I remember some stuff. About the band. I still fucking miss you_ , and sends it to Ryan, and then slumps back onto the bed. 

"Fuck," he says, and feels sad.

After a few minutes, he pulls on his pajama pants and a t-shirt and pads down the hallway to Brendon's room. 

"Hi," he says, pushing the door open. 

Brendon's curled up on the bed, looking as sad as Spencer's ever seen him. He doesn't say anything. 

"I was thinking," Spencer says, after a minute. "I was thinking that maybe I could stay here tonight. With you." 

"Does your head hurt?" Brendon asks quietly. "Do you need those migraine pills?"

"I just don't want to sleep by myself," says Spencer. He's not above lying about his head hurting if it means Brendon will let him stay. "I remember that. I had lunch with Ryan, and then I slept in here with you, right? I guess it was a really bad lunch."

Brendon laughs a little. "Lunch was okay," he said. "You just hate fighting with him."

"And your mom called and asked when you were gonna settle down and get married, and I slept in here that night, too," Spencer says. He wishes he remembered everything.

Brendon just nods. 

"So... So can I?" Spencer asks, fidgeting a little.

Brendon rolls over so he's at the edge of the bed. "If you want," he says. "I guess." 

Spencer climbs into bed next to Brendon, and pulls up the covers so that they're both warm enough. Brendon's air conditioning is always set to extra-cold. 

They lie there for a while, Brendon on his side facing away from Spencer, Spencer lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. 

"That's a long time," Spencer says, finally. " _Years_ , Brendon. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Brendon shrugs, but stays right where he is. "You didn't say anything either," he says. 

"You didn't say anything _first_ ," Spencer says. 

"You would never have wanted me back," Brendon says, with another shrug. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, "except for that whole part where I love you. Fuck, are you stupider than our stupid fucking dog?"

"Stupider, Spence?" Brendon rolls over so that he's facing Spencer. "Really?"

"Fuck you," Spencer says, but the mood's a little lighter than it was a minute ago. 

Brendon smiles a weird little half-smile. "Do you remember the first time you came here to stay?" he asks. He shifts so that he's resting his cheek against his hand, curled up at the edge of the pillow.

Spencer thinks for a moment. Some parts of his memory are still blank, which is really fucking weird, and there are other reasons apart from loving Brendon why he doesn't want to sleep alone tonight. "That lame-ass air mattress," Spencer says, after a moment. "You gave me that shitty air mattress. It _leaked_."

"You slept in here that night, too," Brendon says, softly.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Yeah." 

"But then you went and bought a deluxe super fancy one, so you wouldn't have to sleep here," Brendon points out a little sadly.

"I woke up and you'd gone downstairs to hide," Spencer remembers. "I didn't want to freak you out. I still found a way to stay up here a couple of times a week."

Brendon quirks his mouth into a smile. "I really didn't think you were that sneaky," he says.

"Oh," Spencer says, "I've apparently been way too sneaky all along. I'm gonna have to be really straightforward, I guess." He rolls over on his side so he's facing Brendon. "Hi," he says. "I love you, and I want to kiss you pretty much all the time."

"There must have been a reason you didn't," Brendon says miserably. "You just haven't remembered it yet."

"I think it was that I'm kind of stupid, too," says Spencer. 

"Oh," Brendon says, thinking. "Okay."

"Really fucking stupid," Spencer says, nodding. "I'm pretty sure that's it."

"But what if it _isn't_ ," Brendon says. "That would totally fucking suck."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "I'm going to try this again," he says, "in really small words. Then you can say it back to me." He blushes. "You know, if you want. I love you, and I want to kiss you pretty much all the time."

Brendon waits a moment. His cheeks are pink. "I want," he says. "But you should never have bought that super amazing air mattress."

"I moved into your fucking _house_ , Brendon," Spencer points out. He shuffles closer. "I moved _in_."

"Because you sneakily wanted to kiss me," Brendon says. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, clearing his throat and feeling suspiciously warm. "Pretty much. That and you're kind of the best person I know."

"Oh," Brendon says. He picks at the pillowcase with the tip of his finger. "You, uh, too. The best person, I mean. I kind of love you too," he says, quickly, "and I want to kiss you all of the time, as well."

"There," Spencer says, but his heart is beating so fast and so loud he can barely hear over it, "that wasn't so hard, was it?" 

"No," Brendon whispers. "Not too hard."

"So would it be okay if I did?" Spencer asks, throat tight.

"If you... Okay," says Brendon.

Spencer leans in and kisses him. It's not possible that they haven't been doing this all along; his arms slide around Brendon so easily, and he knows just how to kiss him to coax his mouth open. He pulls Brendon a little closer, and Brendon's still a little stiff, a little hesitant, but he's loosening up. 

It takes a moment, but Brendon's relaxing against him, and he's kissing Spencer back softly, still a little hesitantly, but he's not pulling away. Spencer breathes a little easier. 

Brendon tastes sweet, and a little stressed out, and Spencer wants to kiss him until he's relaxed and loose and pliant. 

"Are you okay?" Brendon asks, pulling away after a minute of trading kisses. 

Spencer tries not to roll his eyes. "I haven't changed my mind, if that's what you're asking." He slides his hand down into the curve of Brendon's back, trying to pull him closer. 

"You've just had a head trauma," Brendon says, worriedly. He brushes his thumb across Spencer's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No," Spencer says, sulkily. Brendon looks horrified, before Spencer presses his mouth to the corner of Brendon's. "I was kissing this amazing guy, but then he stopped for _no_ reason at all."

"Head trauma," Brendon says again, " _brain injury_."

"Making out," Spencer retorts. "Get over here and kiss me again." 

"What if we're kissing and you get sick again?" Brendon asks.

"What if you _don't_ kiss me, and I get sick again?" Spencer replies. "Wouldn't that be even sadder? Seriously, I can't believe you say you want to kiss me and then you just _stop_. _That's_ making my head hurt."

Brendon grins a little bit. "Awww, poor baby," he says. He brings his hand up on Spencer's jaw and kisses him again.

"Better," says Spencer against his mouth. 

"Better," says Spencer against his mouth. "But I'm pretty sure it'd be even better if you let me take your shirt off."

Brendon looks scandalized. "You have a _brain injury_ ," he says. "You are not taking my shirt off."

"I'm fully recovered," Spencer says, sliding his hand under Brendon's shirt and onto his hip. Brendon's skin was hot and kind of intoxicating. 

"You are _not_ ," Brendon says, slapping Spencer's hand away. "Give me the tour schedule. And tell me what we did for your birthday last year. And..." he stops to think. "tell me that song I sung on Pete's patio that one time."

Spencer narrows his eyes. "Fine," he says. "Be like that. See if you like making out with me fully clothed, when you could be _naked_."

Brendon rolls his eyes and kisses Spencer again, soft and slow. "Shut up," he says, and his words hum against Spencer's mouth. "Shut up and let me kiss you."

"Okay," Spencer says, after a moment. Brendon's kissing him _so_ slowly, and so very softly, hardly moving, his tongue just sliding along Spencer's lower lip. It's kind of the most amazing kiss Spencer's ever had. 

Spencer's arm is starting to go numb underneath Brendon. "Which way do you want to roll?" he asks, because there's no way he's letting go, not when he's just worked one of his hands down to a decent grip on Brendon's ass. Spencer is a gentleman, though. 

"Up," says Brendon, and rolls on top of Spencer. "Better for your injury."

"You are ridiculous," says Spencer, but he likes the way it feels, having Brendon on him, straddling his hips. 

"The doctor said nothing too strenuous," says Brendon primly. He leans down and kisses Spencer again, less tentative and more... claiming is the word Spencer would use, maybe. 

Brendon kisses him over and over and over, until Spencer is left hoping that Brendon doesn't ask him any more questions about what he does or doesn't remember, because Spencer's pretty sure he's a little shaky on his own name right about now. 

Brendon kisses him until Spencer's breathless, his hand sliding down Brendon's back, cupping his ass again. And then Brendon pulls away. 

"What are you doing?" Spencer manages, sitting up on his elbows. 

"Nothing too strenuous, the doctor said," Brendon says, again. "You're out of breath."

"Because you're _hot_ ," Spencer points out, grumpily. He sneaks a hand under Brendon's shirt and strokes at his hip. Brendon looks pretty amazing, sitting back on his heels, straddling him. "You're hot, and I'm pretty sure I've wanted this _forever_ , and you just _stop_."

Brendon only blushes a little bit, but he doesn't kiss Spencer again. "I don't want you to _die_ ," he points out, poking Spencer's belly with one finger. "I've not kissed you for years, I'm pretty sure another few days won't hurt."

"I'm pretty sure they _will_ ," Spencer says, under his breath. He needs to prove to Brendon he's well enough for orgasms, only he's not exactly sure how. 

"Goodnight," says Brendon abruptly, and rolls back over to his side of the bed.

"Whoa, hang on. Who said anything about goodnight?" Spencer pushes himself up on his elbows.

"You came up and interrupted me going to sleep," says Brendon, curling up with his back to Spencer. "G'night."

Spencer considers that entirely unfair statement for a minute. "No way," he says. Brendon pretends to start snoring. Spencer rolls his eyes really hard and puts his arm around Brendon's waist, hauling him backwards so Spencer can press up against him. "You don't seriously want to go to sleep right now," he says, rocking his hips a little bit against Brendon's ass.

"I'm not that kind of boy," Brendon says primly, which is a vicious lie, Spencer knows from years on a tour bus with him. 

"I just remembered that you're _lying_ ," Spencer complains. 

Brendon sighs. "What if you don't want to do this anymore tomorrow?" he asks quietly. 

"I will," Spencer says.

"Okay," Brendon agrees easily. "Then tell me so in the morning." He leans up and kisses Spencer very softly, and then turns back to his side of the bed. 

"Fine," Spencer says, grumpily. He's sort of glad that Brendon's facing the other way so that he can't see how pink Spencer is after Brendon's soft kiss. "See if I care if you don't want to see me naked."

"That's right," Brendon agrees, humming a little under his breath. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"You are making my brain injury _worse_ ," Spencer complains, without thinking, and he doesn't miss the way Brendon's shoulders tighten a little at that. He waits a beat, and then shuffles closer, wrapping an arm around Brendon's chest and pressing a kiss to the nape of Brendon's neck. "I didn't mean that," he says, softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Brendon says, but he doesn't relax back against Spencer. "I know."

"Seriously," Spencer says. "Accident. Not your fault."

Brendon relaxes against him, covering Spencer's hand with his own. "I know," he says. "But I'm still not kissing you anymore tonight."

"I'll still feel the same in the morning," Spencer tells him, and he leans in and kisses Brendon's cheek. "I'll still be here."

"Good," Brendon says. "I'll be waiting." 

Spencer lets out a breath. "If I don't remember—" he starts. "If this is it. If this is all the memory I get back, and I have to re-learn every single song we've ever released, I'm still not going to stop being in love with you, just so you know. This feeling isn't going to go away."

Brendon makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and presses a little closer. "You'll remember," he says. 

"Hopefully," Spencer says. The doctors say there might always be gaps in his memory, which is going to suck, if true. He hopes the good parts don't stay forgotten. He hopes he remembers how to play the drums. That would _really_ suck. "I'll get over it," he says after a while. "We'll just fill in the gaps somehow. It's still not going to make me stop loving you." That part he's sure of, at least. 

"Hmmm," Brendon says. 

Spencer strokes Brendon's hair for a moment. "I'll make you believe me," he says. "I'll tell you every day until you believe it."

Brendon curls in a little closer. "Go to sleep," he says softly. "Stop talking. You've been really ill. You need your sleep."

"I need orgasms," Spencer grumbles, but he slides his hand into Brendon's and presses nearer anyway. 

"Sleep," Brendon tells him again, and Spencer nods. He'll tell Brendon again in the morning, and again the morning after that. He'll keep telling him. "Don't think I can't hear you thinking, Spencer."

Spencer grins, and rubs his nose against Brendon's neck. "Slavedriver," he says affectionately, and closes his eyes.

[end]

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] I Wish I Could Remember You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/672740) by [dapatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty)




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